


Jokes

by WonderWonderBats



Category: Batman (Comics), Ella Enchanted - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, F/F, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderWonderBats/pseuds/WonderWonderBats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"oh and doctor? I hope those nightmares don't keep you up too late." </p><p>I've been playing a lot of arkham city/asylum, and this idea just happened. Not a crossover, just a little psychological fucked up chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jokes

**Author's Note:**

> -I do not own Ella enchanted or batman.--
> 
>  
> 
> "To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."
> 
> \--Friedrich Nietzsche

Jokes, chapter one 

 

"Patient # 48914, Hattie Bast."

She can barely breathe, her shaky hands fumbled with the tape recorder as she set it on the table. Of all her years working in the asylum, never had she ever come in contact with a criminal of such caliber. Most had been needy, eager little attention-seekers who listened to and hung off her every word. Her opinions were golden, her ideals godly. But this patient...the look in her blue eyes screamed "cold like a knife," and Ella found herself wondering how many knives Hattie Bast had enjoyed slicing innocent people with. 

"My, my. Someone is nervous!" 

Her voice was delighted--light and perhaps under different circumstances, it would've made Ella smile. But now, in the small interview room, with its oppressively glass windows and locked door, it made her skin crawl. 

"Excuse me, Miss Bast, but I am not nervous." Ella tried to smile, tried to project some form of confidence as her eyes roamed over the scars on Hattie's face. The blonde's tongue frequently darted out to lick them, slowly roaming over jagged skin. Ella suppressed a shudder. 

"Oh, of course! I mean, dear you're only in a room with the most dangerous criminal in--dare I say it--the world! Why be nervous? You're perfectly safe."

The smile never left her face. 

Ella found herself wondering how, exactly she got those scars. But, she supposed the question would pop up during the interview...

"You think very highly of yourself, Miss Bast."

Hattie laughed, a joyous sound that was almost infectious,

"Of course I do. I have every reason to." 

Ella scowled, "Uh huh. Tell me, Miss Bast, why have you once again been admitted into the Asylum?" 

There had been so many rumors; some had said that Hattie had killed an entire family, others said she skinned someone alive. It was hard to tell, what with her record. 

Hattie's forever smile seemed to grow impossibly wider as she regarded Ella's inquiry with a cock of her head. 

"Well, my dear I'm sure you've head the rumors. It must be difficult, discerning what, exactly I did. But I'll let you in on a secret, Dr. Try to keep it under your lab coat, would you?"

Ella nodded, her skin alive with goosebumps. Hattie licked her scars, fidgeting about, the cuffs on her wrists rattling as she did, 

"I'll tell you what I did--you see, dear, I was walking down the street. You know, calm as ever, just having a walk and I see, you know I look around and I see someone and oh--they reminded me of someone. You know what I mean, dear? When you see someone who looks uncannily like someone you loathe? Well, imagine how I felt!"

Ella raised an eyebrow, and Hattie leaned over the table, coming dangerously close. Her teeth looked impossibly sharp and white. Like a shark's--just waiting to sink into her flesh. Ella swallowed, placing a shaking finger on the panic button beneath the table. Hattie noticed, and chuckled. 

"Nervous? Heh. I'll spare you unnecessary details and get right to the heart of the matter. The longer I stared at this stranger, the more I wanted him dead. So, I killed him. Stuck a knife in his mouth, and carved a pretty little smile from the corners of his dirty mouth all the way to his ears." 

Ella's eyes widened. She spoke of it like it was an achievement. Like she had done the world a fantastic service and deserved a fucking Nobel prize. 

"I see...and who did this...person remind you of?" 

Did she really even want to know? Would that somehow make what she did any less awful?

Hattie leaned back in her chair, shrugging her shoulders. She was so much older than Ella, and she found herself wondering if she was around when *that* happened...wincing, Ella recalled the news headlines and the papers, and she wondered if Hattie had seen any of them, if she even cared. 

Probably not. 

"You've been looking at my smile." 

Oh, is that what she calls it...

Ella nodded, finger still on the panic button,

"When I was younger, younger than you, a teenager really." a bitter laugh, "I found myself...back on the concrete, legs forced open and a knife in my mouth. So you can, perhaps understand why anyone who looks even...remotely like *that* man would be on my shit list."

Hattie laughed, reaching up and touching her scars. Touching them like they were sacred, like they were a bite mark left by a lover. 

Ella felt numb. None of that was on Hattie's chart, and she really didn't know if she wanted to believe her or not. Criminals lie. They're a cowardly lot, hiding behind fake tragedies and stories of abuse to garner some kind of sympathy and a reason behind their actions. 

"That wasn't in your chart," Ella remarked, her whole body seeming to tremble as Hattie kept staring at her. 

"No one asked, dear. Aw, you're the first to know! Don't you feel special?" 

Ella grimaced.

"Well, Miss Bast, I believe that is all the time we have today," thank god, "I trust you'll be on your best behavior...your cell mate has been complaining." 

Hattie bit her lip, played with a blond curl, "Oh, him? It's not my fault he can't take a joke."

Ella turned off the tape reorder, wondering if she could connive the higher-ups to get Hattie a straight-jacket and a padded room. 

"Right. I'll see you next week, Miss Bast."

"Mm, of course. Oh, and Dr.? I hope those nightmares of yours don't keep you up too late."


End file.
